In every mirror, blunt judgment,
I observe a vision of me that I can't even imagine.
Eyes, face, mouth, nose...
They're as usual, just a little old.
The silent part of my body
rests calmly and apparently
in a balanced and justified context.


But in paying attention to my gaze is
when you see a universe
in duel, brittle, that from so much looking inside
has lost the vividness of other days.
This gray aura that obscures my eyes in
the morning with smiles
and in this strange paradox
that is the reflection I try
to distance myself from agony and disappointment
and discover myself, alive and broken,
before the challenge of being, without further lies.